No Innocent Victims
by MissFreddieLounds
Summary: Hannibal decides that Freddie has run her course being useful. Knowing she'll be a difficult one to take out he has started following her when he can to help better plan her disappearance. Until one night he finds her in a very odd situation that he ends up taking perfect advantage of. *Notes: Extremely dark and twisted AU story read at your own risk*


Hannibal had been keeping an eye on her, though it was tempting to just strangle her and get it over with, due to who she was and the standing she had with everyone around him that was not an option. If he was going to kill Freddie Lounds and make her vanish he was going to have to do it right. He had been following her on weekends now, when he didn't have other things to be doing, and she went to a lot of shady bars. He saw her meet with various people, probably contacts, he never got close enough or stayed long enough to figure out who any one was, but he did know he didn't recognize the people she was meeting.

The night was planning to follow her and take her, she did something completely unexpected. She headed out to a rather high class bondage club. He knew the place well, very well, because this place wasn't exactly an ordinary BDSM club it was for edge play. A far more extreme version of BDSM. Very wealthy people went there and really it was only going to be wealthy people due to the activities. One had to pay a lot of money for a membership and could only get a guest pass if they knew some there who would vouch for them and even that was hard. The reason it was so hard was due to the extreme sadism that took place there. All consensual if someone were to ask him, but it actually wasn't. The thing was everyone played ignorant to the fact that women and men were brought there to be used against their will.

Though there were tons of consensual activities as well, as the majority of the cliental were into that, some extreme masochists, some extreme sadists, there were quite a few people who made it through the doors who never left. It was exactly why he'd know about the place and have membership of his own. However Freddie going there, and showing a pass to get in? How did she even afford that? He assumed it was most likely a gift from another member, she didn't even come close to being able to afford that, at least he wouldn't think she had.

He waited for a few minutes after she entered the unassuming building in an almost abandoned warehouse district. He then showed his own pass and stepped inside. The place was immaculately designed, though any type of mind altering substances were prohibited, except when there was to be a show with an unwilling participant. However people who consent to these things and do it with a partner, adding in a element of mind altering was never good. Though he knew plenty of people snuck stuff in and the ones who rented or owned VIP rooms in the back had alcohol in there. Any of the public dungeon areas or lounge areas were not permitted to stock alcohol. The rules were not all too strictly enforced either this was mostly just to fool the police should they get raided, but that had yet to happen as quite a few good members had connections and knew how to bribe.

He had his own room there of course which was where he headed, not exactly knowing where she had gone anyway. Chances were if she had come there she planned to stay for a while, there must have been a reason. He wondered in what capacity she would even be at a club like that. Was she a sub? A domme? A switch? Though sub was the least likely scenario in his mind, and though he could believe she might be a switch it was more likely she was a dominant like him. She seemed to get off on manipulation and control. Verbally jabbing at people and getting pleasure from it. Her little smirks to herself never went unnoticed by him.

How he had never run into her before if she had a membership, or even a room was not all that surprising. Plenty of people hid their identities there, as well. Full face covering masks were not uncommon and of course there was a reason for that. No one wanted to risk ruining their reputations should someone see them, someone like Freddie Lounds. Already knowing what level most of these people were at, he couldn't believe she hadn't exposed one or two, though if she knew she was probably blackmailing them.

After hanging his jacket in his room, he headed back out to the lounge area. There was an amazing menu there, despite the fact that they were not allowed to publicly serve alcohol and he could always find someone to 'play' with while he was looking out for her. Now that he knew she was there it wouldn't be hard to figure it out even if she was in something rather covering.

The lounge area wasn't very busy tonight, though it was still rather early. He hadn't been informed of any events either, but since it was friday it would be filling up rather fast. It was a good thing he had gotten there when he did it would be easier to corner her once he picked her out. The place was an entire warehouse, three full dungeons, an arena, and three floors of VIP rooms, some of them large enough to hold dungeons of their own. His did, he liked taking willing and unwilling people back there.

A woman entered, blond, she was wearing a black lace mask over her face. Strapless leather mini-dress that pushed her breasts up and practically displayed them. They were nice, made him hungry in more ways than just one. He had seated himself in a darker corner to observe, the hostess had noted him and he was half glancing at the menu. He was well known enough not to be bothered there until he set the menu down. He wasn't going to set it down until he heard the blond talk.

Her knee high black boots were perfectly polished leather, at least seven inch stiletto heel and completely lace up, no zipper on the side. Elbow length black leather gloves, almost skin tight. In one hand she was holding a riding crop. Her silky blond hair was loose and hung down her back. He was convinced that was a wig and this was Freddie. The only thing giving her away were how her lips were painted in such a severe arching angle. He just needed to hear her talk to confirm it.

She approached another woman at the bar area, and didn't hesitate to reach out and stroke her face gently. The woman greeted her as Mistress, that was it. The woman he assumed to be Freddie didn't speak just yet, just took in the verbal masturbation as the woman gushed typical things that a sub would learn to say to their Mistress upon arrival. It would turn out to be very amusing if this was Freddie yet not surprising. He never had her pegged for a lesbian, not even now, and not with how she spoke to him or Will. This woman would manipulate anyone to get off, much like him she didn't take gender into consideration it was mental for her. Though the woman who was now all but kissing her feet was incredibly attractive.

Another man entered, came over to them. That's when she spoke, in a clear, dominant voice, she greeted him as Master but referred to the woman as 'our pet' and reported that she was behaving very well. He knew instantly after that. He smirked to himself, he was far enough away and she was so preoccupied he wasn't very worried about her noticing him just yet, or at all if he didn't want her to. He set his menu down and as usual one of the servers hurried over to him to help. He would have a lot of fun tonight with this.

Freddie had this feeling she was being watched, and that she had been, but not just all night, for the past few weekends. It was stronger than it usually was. Normally she assumed everyone was watching her, because of how she conducted her life it wasn't exactly a paranoid thing to do. Now though, now she felt like whoever was doing it was close and ready to strike. She really didn't want that to interfere with her good time so she was trying to ignore it.

As she was leaving her VIP room, unaware that it was right across from Hannibal's she turned and saw him coming down the hall. Her eyes went wide and she scrambled to get her key card out from where she had tucked it into her cleavage but then told herself to calm down. He didn't know it was her, he couldn't, and it wouldn't matter anyway because he was bound by the same rules she was. The non disclosure agreement they had to get a membership. He would know something was wrong if she panicked. She took a deep breath and just made it look like she was adjusting her dress and turned to look at him as he stopped by his door, he looked back at her. It wasn't surprising this guy was here considering the things that took place. She had him pegged as a sadist with the way he jerked everyone's chain. Not that she had any idea who he was beyond that but she knew he wasn't as 'normal' as he wanted everyone to see him as.

"Don't believe we ever met. I'm Miss Krista." She said holding her hand out speaking firmly, in her usual dominant voice for that place. She found herself smiling because, he couldn't out her now. How she introduced herself was who she became at the club per the rules he was not allowed to call her anything else unless she gave him permission.

"Don't believe we ever met." He said and took her hand shaking it firmly. She basically figured the moment he looked at her he had figured it out. His face looked rather disappointed, as if he had planned to ambush her at some point but there was an unforeseen variable. She might not have even had to go back to her room had she not needed to check her phone quickly. She didn't carry a bag around with her in there and she was waiting for a contact to get back to her to see if she'd be getting an interview.

"Well do you have a name?" She asked him, "As we seemed to reside in rooms across from each other, might come in handy." She told him.

"Master to you, just Master. Unless we become friendly I don't believe more personal touches are necessary." He told her. It kind of sucked that she was bound by the same rules as him, she couldn't call him Hannibal Lecter unless he gave her permission or they were back in a room together. She wanted to sneer at him, this man would get his rocks off being known as Master. She wondered if Will was there too, not a high improbability in her mind.

"Master it is then." She said like it wasn't bothering her as much as it was, "Care to join me for a drink? I have a wide variety of beverages in my room." She really did only have a room that nice due to another member at the club but not one she was blackmailing. It was a man she was currently seeing as a sub and he paid for the room for her, and just her. He was rich as hell and he didn't care if she used the room when he wasn't there. It worked out perfectly. Though she was assuming Hannibal thought it was for much more sinister reasons.

"Sounds delightful." He said, the way he was looking at her though, she wasn't sure this was a good idea now. She actually expected him to turn her down but he was going through with it. Fuck. SHe turned and got her keycard and ran it through the reader before opening the door and stepping in. She reached over and turned the lights on. There were two doors in that room, one led to the bathroom, the other to the private dungeon. He stepped in behind her and she made sure to keep her distance for now so she couldn't be grabbed, wondering how long either of them would be willing to keep up this charade. She was hoping to get him to crack first.

"You seem like a wine man, merlot?" She asked as she went to her wine cooler. There was a mini bar there, a nice one, she had food as well stocked behind the bar. She grabbed two wine glasses and went to get one of the better bottles of merlot. This place was kept fully stocked to her specifications without her having to do it. Her sub had paid extra for that feature. She also had top shelf hard liquor but he wasn't going to get any of that if she had a say in it. She saw him eyeing the bottle of way too expensive brandy she had. She never drank it, it was for people she liked. She still wasn't exactly sure she liked him beyond finding his behavior very interesting.

"You read me well Miss Krista." He said, his tone rather sarcastic without being overly so. She pried the bottle open and poured two glasses before picking them both up and heading over to him. He had taken a seat on the black leather sectional in there across from the amazing california king size bed with blood red satin comforter and sheets. "Thank you." He took it and then pretentiously smelled it before taking a sip. She wanted to roll her eyes but didn't, instead she walked to the other side of the sectional and sat down.

She reached for the pack of cigarettes set out on the coffee table and pulled one out, tapping it on her wrist for a moment. "You mind?" She asked him, "I only ever smoke here, it's more of a fetish thing, do you have any fetishes, Master?" She really hated calling him that and she was going to smoke no matter what the fuck he said about liking or not liking it.

"I would prefer you didn't, however this is your room." He told her, "As for fetishes I am not so quick to share without being shared with first." He told her. She lit the cigarette and took a long drag before grabbing her wine and exhaling, making sure it wasn't in his direction.

"Well, then we are probably at an impasse as I feel the same way." She told him, "However if I were to guess, with the way you hold yourself and speak, as well as the nature of this club, yours would probably be extreme sadism, humiliation, torture...snuff." She smirked at him. They both damn well knew people got snuffed there. Though she hadn't ever taken part in anything like that she had been around to see it and she couldn't say she didn't like watching a life end in such a horrible matter. He was glaring at her now but still managing to do a really good job of keeping his cool. She took another drag from her cigarette and then a sip of her wine.

"With the same amount of evidence I have on you, I would have to say the same thing, which if any of it's true one would think we'd make a bad match. The only thing I would say would differ from me is your masochistic streak. You hide it well, but you have it." He spoke. Damn that was just a vague enough statement that he wasn't yet breaking the rules. She laughed a bit, shaking her head in slight irritation.

"What exactly makes you think I would ever be a masochist, Master? This room you are sitting in right now is being paid for by a very grateful sub of whom you will never get information on. I'm allowed to tell you that much. Would a sub who is displeased with the way I dominate make sure I lived in such luxury if I wasn't a true dominant?" She asked, reaching to tap the ashes into the crystal ashtray sitting next to her wine glass on the coffee table.

"Just because one dominates, doesn't mean they are a true dominant." He told her rather nonchalantly, and she knew it was true she just hated that he was still trying to play the game.

"Hmmm you must be a therapist or something." She said flippantly, "You talk like one."

"Well you interrogate like a sleazy journalist." He snapped back almost as quickly as she snapped at him. They were both getting close to breaking, neither one of them wanted to yet. They were in a power struggle, and both of them liking power was the problem. Even worse he hadn't been wrong about her masochism and now she was fighting hard to hide it because she didn't want him to know he had been right.

"So, Master, in your ever wise opinion if I were to submit to someone, hypothetically, what would you do to me if it were you?" She asked, taking another drag from her cigarette and eyeing him suspiciously. He smiled, actually smiled, she didn't even think he was able to do that. What's worse was it made him instantly attractive, almost melted her. She hoped it was dark enough in there that he didn't see the bumps raise on her skin as she got a chill.

"I would hurt you. Rather severely. Wouldn't restrain you, not at first, depending on how annoying you got to me you might never be restrained. Our size differences would mean you'd be easy to control. By your hair, arm, or throat. You would be in pain, and I would do it for no other reason than it get me off. Needles most likely, through your breasts, thighs, in your back. A nice caning would suit you, enough so you'd think of me every time you sat down for a week. Burning, one of those cigarettes, putting it out while I pinned you to me, feeling your body twitch and struggle to get away, hearing you scream. It's a nasty habit." She had gotten so sucked into his voice and the idea of him doing that to her she didn't realize her hand was shaking, and badly at that. Her eyes had gone wide, why did she want any of that? And from him? What was wrong with her. "Due to the way you seem to be responding I would say that my assumption about your masochism was correct."

"Shut up Lecter." She snapped at him. Shit. She had broke first he had rattled her to much.

"I was waiting to see how long that would take. Could have gone all night myself." He told her, "Very passible wig, must have been expensive."

"Worth it." She said and reached up and took it off, what was the point now? It was hot and it irritated her scalp. She then took the mask off. "Though if you expect me to keep calling you Master at this point so you can get off on it, you are fucking delusional." She told him.

"I'm pretty sure I will be 'fucking delusional' later tonight." He said heavily implying she was delusional and he would be fucking her. She let out a weird, almost feral snarl and stood up.

"Yeah well in that case it would be rape." She pulled her hair from the clip it was in and started to fluff it out, at least she was now thirty degrees cooler than she had been before, maybe it would help her keep calm around him because he was fucking with her and rather badly at that point.

"Who are you going to report the rape to, if that ends up being the case, Ms. Lounds?" he asked her. She hated how he said her name, that stupid sexy hot accent. God she couldn't stop thinking about sex. She hated him more than ever in that moment but also wanted him badly. She didn't like this feeling. She had only ever met one other person who made her lose control like this and that man was now dead. She had loved him. She didn't love Hannibal Lecter, she never would.

"You will not rape me, Lecter, nor will you ever be my Master in any way. Just because you made a lucky guess and I vaguely responded to it, maybe just barely, doesn't mean I want you anywhere near me." She was pacing at that point, she snuffed out her cigarette and lit another one in a hurry, she needed to be doing something with her hands because if she wasn't doing this she'd want to be touching herself. He let out a self assured chuckle and stood up.

"It's not true rape if you want it." He said coming towards her, she backed up quickly. The heel on her stiletto twisted and she stumbled back he caught her and pulled her into him, getting the cigarette out of her hand and holding it away. She was pinned to his body, and he was aroused, very aroused.

He looked down at her, she was terrified and rightfully so. He wanted that look from her, desperately wanted that look, he was feeding off of it now. She wasn't struggling though, at least not as hard as he knew she could if she was actually desiring to get away from him. Something in her wanted this, he didn't know if she even knew what part did but she was loving it on some level.

"I detest smoking." He told her seriously, quickly her hair was swept back and still pinning her close he placed the burning end to the back of her neck. The scream she let out was blood chilling, and yet there was a bit of a moan there, it wasn't entirely pained. Her body gave the odd little twitches that a body did when it was being burned but couldn't get away from the pain. The nerves kind of went nuts and her twitches and spasms were powerful but she never stopped screaming or moaning or whatever that noise was she was making. Once the thing was completely out he pulled her limp body with him to set the butt in the ashtray. She was a bit more heavy than he thought she might be, very muscular. Her body type hid it well.

"Please..." She whispered, she was shaking now and badly. He could easily see that she would not be able to stand without him holding her like he was. Should he let go, she would collapse. He also wasn't sure what she was begging for. Mercy? Sex? More pain? Less? Of course he dropped her a moment later and she fell to her knees. Tears of pain streaked her face but she wasn't sobbing. She looked up at him, rather pathetically, like she was waiting for a command, any command. He smirked.

"Doesn't take much for you, does it Ms. Lounds?" He asked her, moving his hand to stroke some hair out of her face gently before slapping her viciously. She screamed out and fell to the ground with the force of that. "Worthless." He sneered.

"I-I'm sorry." She whimpered and then made a face, it was only a split second but the face showed that she was actually questioning why she had said that to him. She really didn't know what these feelings were about or what her behavior meant but she had stopped denying she wanted it.

"You will be." He told her. "We will adjourn to the dungeon now to keep this cleaner. You will crawl behind me." He said and then headed to the door he knew was the dungeon and opened it. The room was the exact same layout as his. He opened it and turned to see her crawling towards him. It was humorous that her face looked like she was annoyed, and not with him, but with herself, that she was complying this easily. The blood from her wound was dripping down one of her arms, her body already coated in a thin layer of sweat she looked delicious and in far more ways than one, crawling towards him like that and entering the room. Most likely the room she would never come out of.

She hadn't wanted to listen to him, but her body and brain just weren't working together. Her body was telling her brain to shut up, trying to convince her of the pleasure she could get from this. Her brain was telling her he was going to kill her and she needed to run. That the only likely outcome of this situation was her death. She was crawling to be slaughtered and with no hesitation. Once she was in the room he closed the door behind her and she just kind of knelt there, staring at the wall in front of her. She knew this was stupid yet, she wanted this, all of it.

He stepped up behind her and grabbed her hair, yanking it back, she screamed but now was in a position where she couldn't close her mouth very easily. It wasn't impossible she just assumed he wouldn't want it closed for whatever reason. He was looking down into it, as her tongue. Why? She felt self conscious in that moment, it was like he was hungry for her tongue. It scared her as much as it enticed her. He let go of her head whatever he had been doing he was apparently finished with it.

"I am no longer sure how fun you are making this for me, Ms. Lounds." Hannibal said and headed away from her. In that room there were various sex toys on display. She watched him go from the ones that could cause both pleasure and pain, to the ones only meant to inflict pain and start to look them over. "I believe I was expecting quite bit more of a fight."

"You want me to fight you?" She replied and then laughed softly, it got increasingly louder. "Really? Look at me and look at you. I might get in a good nut shot but...what the hell am I going to accomplish fighting you?" She really had no idea what he meant but he was about to inform her. He grabbed something, she didn't see what and then headed back to the door rather swiftly. He locked it and then grabbed her by her hair violently. That room was soundproof even if she were to scream as loud as humanly possible, no one would be helping her.

"It very well may save your life." He said to her and let go of her hair. Hearing that her reflexes kicked in. She really didn't know who he thought she was but she had been in several hundred bad situations with men probably far bigger than him, if he meant to take her life then she would fight. Sadly enough she had gotten very good at it. She saw a knife coming for her and was able to dodge it, barely, it opened a cut on her arm but she did do what she had just said, she kneed him in the groin and hard at that. She may have been small but she was incredibly strong, especially her legs. He was kind of stunned by that hit but didn't drop the knife. Didn't matter there were other ones in there and she scrambled for one, grabbing the biggest one she owned which was mostly for show, but really trumped his. Ignoring the cut on her arm for the moment she got in a fighting stance watching him try to take in enough air to recover. He wasn't going to kill her. No fucking way.

What she had just done was completely unexpected and he realized he had severely underestimated what he thought she was. She was strong too, it was rare anyone got a shot in like that hard enough to stop him. He had noted earlier when he was dragging her she was very muscular. He figured it was that she worked out to keep her figure, now it appeared she was a fighter and rather adept at it. As he recovered her couldn't help but start to smirk. She had just become interesting to him. What was she hiding?

"Didn't like that did you Lecter? And as a man who seems to always be ten steps ahead of everyone I bet that really fucked with you, knowing that I am not just the dumb little rat you think I am." She said, "Now we have two options here, you can let me out and I won't tell Jack or Will or Alana or hell my whole reading audience what the good doctor attempted. Or I can cut your balls off, have them as snack and tell the world what a pathetic bitch you are. Which one?"

"You are forgetting the third option, Ms. Lounds." He told her, now fully recovered, it didn't take him long and he slowly started to advance on her. She had good reflexes, quick ones, like a fiery little jungle cat. He hated to admit that her standing like she was, in an actual proper fighting stance with a large knife was rather arousing. More so because he knew this would be a challenge than anything about her actually being arousing.

"Oh yeah? What's that?" She breathed and stepped back, but she didn't back herself into a corner like most would, she shifted and started to move around the table in the center of the room. The rack where he was figuring she would soon be restrained. She wasn't out of breath, not even with the two wounds to her body. Who was this woman? What was this woman?

"That I have yet to be defeated by a victim." He said, he followed her, shifting his gaze from her weapon to her eyes, trying to gauge where she would strike next, or try to.

"So now you have experience with this?" She asked him, sounding like she thought he was telling a huge lie to intimidate her. "You aren't going to kill me Lecter you don't have it in you. A man like you gets off on sadism sure, but not death, not you. Or...was I right about the lie I told when I confirmed who the ripper was?" She asked him.

Though he was surprised she'd make such a statement he didn't let it show. How much did she know? How much of a cold reading was she giving? Throw enough darts at a phone book and you will find a name that can help you. Though she wasn't stupid, could clearly fight, and wasn't ready to give in.

"Funny you mention the ripper." He told her keeping his tone very flat. "What would make you jump to that conclusion? Your paranoia is showing Ms. Lounds."

"Your psychopath is showing, Lecter, the way you moved that knife at me. I've never been more sure of who or what you are." She said, "I am getting out of here, and you will count yourself lucky if I decide not to tell."

He took that moment to lunge at her and she saw it coming, she had been talking that way in order to get him riled and it was working. She side stepped him and got to the door, unlocking it and rushing out. Damn boots. She couldn't easily get them off either she'd have to actually sit down and unlace them, no zipper. The heels were making it harder to run. Not impossible, she was still pretty damn fast but not as fast if they were clad in tennis shoes or even bare. He was after her in a heartbeat, she knew there was little she could do, even in that club if someone heard screaming chances were very likely it would go ignored. People minded their own damn business there, it's why she liked it.

He was fast approaching, she grabbed one of the wine glasses from the coffee table, his, and threw the wine at him. The majority of it missed but something got in his eye. She laughed and smashed the thing over his head, racing for the door to the room. She pulled it open. He was still rushing behind her, half blind, and she still had the knife. This would look highly suspicious to anyone if her did follow her through the club. Activities in private went ignored, behavior like this would not be tolerated in the public areas as it was unbecoming.

"I'd think twice about following me, looking like you do." She yelled as she ran out into the hallway still clutching the ceremonial looking knife. She didn't stop running until she was outside in in a crowd of people trying to enter. Of course her bag, all her stuff, was still in that VIP room. Fortunately not her wallet, nor her money. Her phone was though, and he could find out a wealth of information with that. Her contacts, where she actually lived, not that damn hotel room. Fuck! He'd also have a key to her hotel. DAMN! SHe kicked the wheel of her car. Her keys were in the bag she brought too but she kept a spare in a magnetic case under the driver's side door. She grabbed it and got in, starting the car and peeling out of there, a few people staring at her because of her bloody arm and back. She still had to face the fact that she was aroused by him taking control like he had initially. She had to face the fact he had been right. She also had to face the fact that she really wouldn't be opposed to doing more with him in a sexual way even if he was the ripper. The problem was it could mean her death if there was no way to convince him that this relationship could work on a purely carnal level.

Freddie headed towards Hannibal's house. She didn't even have the keys to get back into her hotel room, nor did she have money or her ID to prove she had been staying there and depending on who was the manager at the front desk this time of night she couldn't get away with just flirting either. Her best option was to go to Hannibal's house which she already had programmed in her GPS so it wouldn't be that hard to find. He wouldn't immediately look for her there, or at least he shouldn't immediately be looking for her there, what would be his reasoning?

It was stupid to run from him too much, besides he'd be able to easily track her, find her real home. He now had keys to everything, he had her phone, he could get to her computer, her bank accounts, and since she knew he was the ripper, she had more to lose than he did. Yet instead of going to Jack or the police she had come here, she wasn't sure why. Maybe it was due to the fact that no one would believe her if she told on him, and maybe it was due to the fact that the thoughts of such violence intrigued her to a point she couldn't stay away.

She had aroused him, physically aroused him in some way. He at very least wanted to use her for that first and she couldn't say she didn't want the same thing. She would take a nice fuck from him, possibly a torture session, she didn't want to die though so it would have to be done carefully.

After grabbing her lock picking kit from under the front seat she headed around to the back of his house to the back door. Standing out front picking the lock, though it was dark, really wasn't a good idea the last thing she needed was a nosy neighbor to decide it was smart to call the cops on her. Then she'd have to explain that Hannibal was the ripper and why she thought that, and her fun little game would end. Right now she felt like she had it handled and she was going full force into it.

The back door opened easily, no alarm sounded, though she didn't know why she thought that there would be one. He was the fucking ripper who the hell did he fear? Why did he even lock his doors? Probably so no one could get in and find evidence, well not get in easily. She was in.

She shut the door behind her and locked it again. After rubbing her arms a bit to warm up she headed through the house, not turning on any lights. If by chance he did come home she didn't need him to know what room she was in, or that she was even there. She had parked her car around the block and down the street he wouldn't even see it in the driveway. She wasn't an idiot, she did this type of thing for a living.

It was hard to see but there were some lights left on, low ambient ones for whatever reason. She went into his kitchen and grabbed one of his knives. A smart man like him would quickly realize she had taken it, especially if he came in this room first but it wouldn't negate the fact that she still had it and was waiting for him somewhere in the house to get the drop on him.

After that she started to feel out the place, memorize areas in the dark. Her hands running over the walls gently, being very careful not to disturb anything around her. He would probably know someone had been there or things were amiss, but if she could find a good enough hiding place it wouldn't matter and she hoped she could get the bastard unnerved, unhinged and crazy like he had been at the club. He seemed to think less like that, and go more on instinct.

Hannibal was aware that he looked basically like a mess and as it was very tempting to get to Freddie's things before getting cleaned up and presentable, he had to make sure he didn't draw attention to himself. He had no idea where she had gone off to however he did have time as eventually she was going to have to return to her hotel to get items from it.

He went to his own room to shower and change, leaving with barely a noticeable mark on him. He had to think like her, which was rather difficult as it seemed though she was intelligent she made really odd leaps in logic at times to figure out problems, and he wasn't aware of how she did that. Where would she go exactly? He had her things, even her keys, but he didn't put it past her to have a spare to her car or even know how to hot wire a vehicle. In any case she'd be gone, she would have gotten a cab if she couldn't drive.

She was out there, somewhere, a wound to her arm and neck, smelling delicious. Yet where did she have to go? Did she have friends? People who would hide her? A woman like that operated alone, he doubted anyone would want to protect her and she had probably screwed over more people than she had ever become friends with if she had any friends at all. The idea hit him that she might have gone to his place. She knew where it was and in her mind that was probably the last place she was thinking he'd look.

He believed that she would know that he had all this information for the taking and he would go and take it, which would give her time to go rummage through his house. That made perfect sense. He honestly wasn't worried she was going to the authorities. No, the way she had been talking and acting, what she wanted was to fuck him not to tell on him, at least not yet. If she could figure out a way to profit from this first, she would, and turning him in meant giving up a lot of rights to her own story and she wouldn't want that, she'd want full credit.

The problem was, upon leaving there she had no proof but her own theories about him being the ripper. Since her credibility with the FBI and Jack Crawford was basically zero, even less if that were possible, she must have known she'd have to get proof. She would be at his house, that he was sure of.

He drove there, like it was any other normal occasion. Not quickly, not in a panic. He had her bag in his car with him, on the passenger's seat, resting there nicely. He would end her but, she had been so difficult, so rude, he would teach her a lesson first. He was quite impressed with her knowledge of bad situations, how quickly she had gotten out of this, and the fact that she was no idiot when it came to fighting. Of course once he managed to get her pinned or restrained it was probably all over for her, and now that she had shown her hand of cards he knew to be prepared so it would be harder for her to get the drop on him, but at least she wouldn't be boring prey to take down. He was guessing she'd be incredibly tasty as well once he got to that point. Satisfying.

Her car was not in his driveway, which made sense, she wouldn't want to immediately alert him to her being there. He assumed she had some sort of lock picking equipment, she was Freddie Lounds after all, and had been known to make trouble breaking into places to get a story for herself. He entered his front door being as quiet as he possibly could, which was damn quiet considering who he was and looked around.

After flipping on a light he hung up his coat and headed more into the house, turning on lights as he went so if he did catch her exposed in a room she'd immediately be visible. In certain areas he could smell her. The blood, the sweat, and the lovely perfume she had been wearing that he had hated to admit even to himself smelled nice and not trashy. Above it all she had rather good taste and a nice fashion sense, which bugged him because a person like her shouldn't know such things.

 _Come out, Ms. Lounds_...He thought to himself trying to follow her scent, it seemed like she had been everywhere and possibly touched everything yet nothing was out of place not one item. She was very good at this which was frustrating as well as arousing. Though he had no clue what she thought her end game with him was. She must be well aware she was going to die. She might have been smarter to actually try to go to the police but there was no doubt in his mind she was here now. Not with how strong the smell was.

After peeking into the kitchen he noticed his bigger carving knife was missing, so she took it, well played. At least now he knew what she was armed with. He headed up the stairs and he heard a floorboard creak, someone was in his office. This sparked him into a bit of panic. Not because he feared what she could find in there, but quite a bit of his art was in there and he didn't need her touching, taking, or destroying it.

He opened the door quickly, and she was just standing by his desk, looking rather fearless. She had a hand behind her back, but the other rested on the desk with the knife clutched tightly in it.

"Was wondering how long it would take, kind of impressed it didn't take longer, and how many douche bag suits do you have?" She asked looking up at him. She had a file open on his desk and was skimming through it. As he got closer he noticed it was Will's. "Smart move not making all of your notes in English. Only the more innocuous, vague ones are, the rest are in something I've never seen, even with all the education you probably don't believe I have. It's probably the language of wherever that accent came from."

"Step away from the desk, Ms. Lounds, what you are doing now is quite illegal." He told her, trying not to smirk. She had balls, more balls than some of the men at the FBI. She damn well knew who he was and she was still talking to him like that, still throwing everything in his face, but what did she have behind her back that she didn't want him to say.

"Oh because being the Chesapeake Ripper that's completely legal isn't it?" She asked him and clutched the knife on the desk tighter but she didn't lift it just yet. "How much are you mind fucking Will? Clearly a lot if you don't write most of this shit in English, you wouldn't want someone to easily find out and if asked to hand over your notes you'd have to translate them, you could easily lie about what they say couldn't you, Doctor?"

"Will Graham is absolutely none of your concern. What do you have in your hand?" He asked.

"What do you want with Will?" She asked.

"Quid pro quo." He replied.

"Oh no Lecter, that is not a fair trade at all. Will is a casualty of this, an innocent victim, and I cannot allow that to happen." She said, but she picked up the knife and took a step back getting into more of a fighting stance. "Especially with how you misdirected me to thinking he was the ripper. Like you, I will not be made a fool of."

"There are no innocent victims, I choose who I do purely on the fact they are not innocent. As Will Graham is still alive, he is not a victim of mine." Hannibal said, "Show me what you have in your hand." He was approaching her now, still slowly. Whatever she had she thought it was important to either help her or something that was important to him, either way he didn't want to make a false step before he found out or could get her in a position to restrain her and safely take it.

Freddie smiled at him, almost evilly. What she held in her hand was one of his sketches, and she figured it must be important to him as it seemed to be of one of his victims. A woman, young, horribly mutilated, in the true style of the ripper. Looked very much like someone she had known as Miriam Lass. Well, the pictures she had seen of her on the news anyway. Jack would most certainly find that interesting. It would be her proof, her golden ticket, and her leverage. What he didn't know was since he had a few sketches of this mutilated woman she had already hidden one of them, so even if he got this one away from her she only needed to grab that one and get the hell out of there with it. It was stashed near one of the doors in his house, hiding in rather plain sight. He'd been so concerned with finding her, he had missed it, as had been her plan.

"I would say Will is the biggest victim of you. He thinks you actually care, well done, Lecter." She said, "As for what's in my hand, if you don't want it destroyed I suggest you don't move much closer to me in a menacing fashion. I had no idea what an amazing artist you were." She watched him freeze in place. Hmm, had she found a weakness? She liked that.

"Ms. Lounds you are-"

"What? Endangering myself? Already dead? I mean I guess as long as I don't wind up like the woman in this sketch I'm pretty okay. What was her name? Miriam something? Either way if this thing gets destroyed you won't have anything to masturbate too as you can't go back and see your own work." She laughed. He growled, he was basically turning feral in front of her eyes. It was hot, she was in control, at least for the moment, and there was very little he could do about it.

"You have no right." He told her. She was circling back around the desk slowly, keeping him in her view at all times, headed back for the door so she could bolt for it but now that she told him what she had, she doubted she would get far. He'd pounce on her before could, knife or no knife.

"Tell me what you want with Will and I'll give it back." She said, "Or continue to jerk me around and I destroy it." It was the best one of the sketches, the one she had stashed for her own evidence was fairly incomplete but enough of it was there to indicate who the victim was and what had been done to her. "I'm sure Jack is dying to know what actually happened."

"Freddie..." He growled in a warning tone.

"Dropping the formalities now, Hannibal?" She asked, he was losing it, she liked seeing him like this. Frail almost, ready to pop. He didn't like any of it. This was almost better than sex, almost.

"Count yourself lucky if you do not end up like her by dawn." He threatened.

"Oh no I think you'll take far more time on me than her, which says a lot because seems like what you did to her was incredibly intricate. Did you fuck her? Huh? Before or after she was dead?" She laughed evilly. He lunged but before he could get within striking distance she held up the sketch and raised the knife. It unrolled itself, presenting him with a vision of his own work and her about to slash through it with the blade, he was stopped once more. "Oh come on Hannibal you can stop me right? What are the odds I could do anything to this sketch before you get me. You are the ripper for fuck's sake, the hell are you scared of here?"

"I would never violate one of my victims in such a way." Hannibal breathed, his eyes constantly switching from the sketch, to her eyes, to the hand with the knife. She could basically see the wheels in his head turning, trying to figure out a way to get this drawing back from her without it getting ruined, or getting himself stabbed.

"Okay but you know jamming sharp objects into them and then eating their organs, totally cool right?" She asked and glanced down at the drawing, "You have a lot of talent but subject matter leaves a lot to be desired." She taunted him. All of this felt like extremely fucked up foreplay but it was building to something and it was about to explode.

"I will break you, Ms. Lounds." He threatened and she didn't doubt it.

"Try." She challenged and then threw the sketch down, completely unharmed and raced for the door, as she suspected he went for that first, but only for a split second. Still it gave her a bit of a head start. She made it to the door before she was grabbed by her hair, and she turned, slashing the knife at him. He pulled back enough that she only was able to slice across his chest, cutting open his suit and his skin a small bit before he backhanded her hard enough to send her into a daze and drop the knife.

He slammed her into the wall and she screamed loudly, his mouth clasped over hers to muffle it, and it seemed like he was actually trying to taste her screams, her fear, before he bit into her lower lip hungrily, hard enough to draw blood, which he started to suck out of her. He growled like a hungry animal, starting to devour it's prey. She squealed in pain and pleasure, bucking against him heavily trying to get away. He certainly did enjoy a challenge.

She tasted amazing, and for some reason he hadn't imagined she would. Blood was blood, of course and all humans bled, but for some reason he had always thought she would have some sort of mutant evil sludge in her or the taste would somehow be worse but it was sweet, coppery, and her fear was just delicious. He pulled back and sucked some of her own blood into her mouth and then quickly spat at him. It connected with his eye and he released her, she screamed and ran for the door, opening it quickly.

"You make it SO EASY HANNIBAL!" She yelled but second later he was behind her, having wiped the blood and spit from his face he tackled her down in the hall, she hadn't been smart enough to go after the knife again, or maybe that was smart, he could have grabbed her more easily if she had tried for it. It seemed like half of her was acting on instinct and half of her on experience. How many people had chased her? Hunted her?

She kicked back, her stiletto boot connecting with his shoulder and the sharp heel pierced the skin through his suit. He roared out and she laughed triumphantly but quickly realized when she went to pull away she was stuck.

"Oh shit..." She whispered, turning slightly.

"Yes Ms. Lounds..." he said and grabbed her ankle tightly, "Maybe next time don't run from a notorious predator when you are in 7 inch heels."

"FUCK YOU!" She screamed.

"It was always the plan, was it not?" He asked. She struggled, her other leg flailing wildly but he caught it. With a small grunt of pain he yanked her foot away from him taking a nice chunk of flesh and fabric from his suit. "You'll pay for that."

"If I'm dead in the morning, how can I?" She breathed.

"Who said I'd only play with you til morning?" He laughed darkly. He was then on top of her, covering her body with his, pinning her down. He could feel her struggle, writhe, and yet it didn't seem in desperation to get away. She looked up at him her eyes fearful, aroused. He really never thought he'd have a moment like this with her but holy hell did he want it.

She hated the fact that she was wet for him, practically soaked and as he tore her panties off from under the dress she wondered what the hell she was doing here. She knew damn well who he was and she was playing a very dangerous game. Yet to be fucked by the man she had hunted for so very long...she couldn't not want it and in more than a small way. His hand grazed over her wet folds provoking a moan.

"Very naughty indeed, Ms. Lounds." He purred in her ear, his tone sinister yet still laced with lust. She felt a finger push into her, then a second. The scream that left her was phenomenal, her hips thrust as wildly as they could given that she was basically pinned in place with his weight.

"Could you please not say my name like you are...utterly disgusted with me?" She groaned, wiggling more towards his hand. She could feel the moisture dripping from her, she was going crazy with lust for him.

"Then don't make your behavior so disgusting." He smirked and then unzipped his pants. Was he going to stay in his suit for this? Why was that hotter than if he didn't? She wanted him in the suit. Though it was now torn and bloody, it would seem some how out of place to see him without it. Her hand came up and grabbed his tie, pulling it tight, she wrapped it around her fist. He had just been laying on her, not pinning her.

"You're the one who is about to fuck me." She snarled and then kissed him again, well, it was far more a punch in the mouth with her own because as soon as she made contact she bit into him. She tasted more blood but she couldn't be sure if it was his or more of her own, nor did she care. He slammed into her with his cock and this caused her to release him completely and fall back. Her back arched up violently. "FUCK!"

"Surprisingly tight for a woman I'm sure...gets around." Hannibal breathed. He started to thrust into her, not even close to a nice or moderate pace. Like she was a toy and he was going to use her to cum. It was clear from the look in his eyes he wasn't at all interested in what she was feeling. Something which would normally piss her off and yet in that moment it was just amazing. He could be killing her yet he was using her for pleasure first. Hadn't he said that he would never 'violate one of his victims in such a way'? Maybe she wasn't destined to become one of his victims.

Her legs wiggled out a bit and then wrapped around his waist tightly, pulling him closer. It slowed his thrusts a bit, though it didn't make them less painful. He grabbed her arms and then pushed them above her head, pinning her wrists down. She looked up at him. Blood dripping from his chin, it coated his face. He looked like some sort of wild beast. She was in heaven.

He really was amazed at how firm and toned her body was. He had assumed she was pretty much a whore, that she used her body to get anything and everything she wanted. Yet, she didn't seem to be as loose as some of the women he had enjoyed at that club. Maybe her game was far more verbal than physical. It would make sense.

She looked eerily beautiful in the dim light of the hall, her lip bleeding, blood on her face. Her expression a mixture of pleasure and pain. Though he wasn't trying to make this enjoyable for her at all she was enjoying it. He wasn't sure if that made him angry or pleased him. What he did know was, she'd be far more fun to play with for a while than to kill that night, he just couldn't let her know that. He would let her believe she had some element of power over him, that would keep her obedient.

His head came down and bit in to the top of her breast, hard. She screamed and her body shuddered with the pain of it. He tasted blood and pulled back roughly, taking a chunk of flesh with it. She swallowed it down, there wasn't that much there but it would help kill the urge of carving her up and devouring her later. For right now she was at least entertaining him.

One hand still holding her wrists and pinning them, he used the other to grab her hair, yanking her head back and up. She let out a cry, a weaker one. With the way her body was tensing and convulsing he knew she was close to orgasm, he was as well.

"I own you now, Ms. Lounds. Be very aware of that." He breathed. She let out a weird scream, fear, joy, something, it was a mixture of odd emotions. A second later he felt her jerk, clench around him. She made an odd mewling sound as she orgasmed, her eyes rolling back in her head. He watched her intently, this coaxed out his own orgasm and he did so with a loud nearly triumphant roar. Maybe he couldn't get her on his leash mentally but now he would have her physically.

He collapsed on top of her when he was finished, pinning her there with his full weight, a subtle way of letting her know that he didn't give an ounce of consideration for her comfort and yet she didn't even struggle. It must have been hard for her to breath as well. He could feel the rapid rise and fall of her chest as she tried to take in air under his weight. She was so small, he could literally throw her around if he wanted to, despite the fact that she was oddly muscular for her size.

Freddie only lay there like that because she was trying to think of a way out of this. She figured that struggling would show intent, some kind of intent, and she wanted him to think that she had been defeated for at least the moment. Her body ached and pulsed in the aftermath of such an amazing orgasm. She wasn't going to be able to walk right tomorrow and she wasn't exactly sure how she'd hide the cut on her arm or the bite marks on her face. She'd think of something and if not, she was a good liar.

"What now?" She finally managed to get out.

"What exactly do you think?" He breathed in her ear. There was then a hand on her throat and she was being choked. She hadn't expected that part so she started to struggle and kick, well almost. Any bit of energy her body had left in her she was putting in to fighting him but she knew if this was the end then it was the end. He was the ripper and he would decide for her. That orgasm had been quite worth it though.

When she woke up she was back in her car. She gasped and let out a cry of surprise. For one, she didn't at all expect that, and for two she was weirded out by the fact that she had even woken up. In her lap there was a folded piece of paper. She smelled like blood and sex. Her hair was a mess, she looked like a mess. Deciding to wait to read the note, she pealed out of there quickly and sped off into the night.

As she turned, she realized her bag was on the seat as well. He'd returned her items? Why? What was going on here. Her mouth was dry and she badly needed a drink. Anything really. She'd stop at a gas station, and if she got weird looks she'd tell them to fuck off. She really didn't care, some how she had avoided death and she really couldn't be concerned with what other people had thought about her. It wasn't like it was all non consensual.

The first place she saw, she turned into. It was a seven eleven. It was late, or early, depending on how one was to look at it. Four AM. She wiped as much blood off of her face as she could and pulled on a jacket before grabbing her purse. Everything was in there, every last item. Her keys, her wallet, her phone. Though there was no telling what information he had gotten off of that in the time when she was gone, he had returned it to her and she guessed that was the important part.

She picked up the note finally and unfolded it. As her eyes skimmed the page, what she read caused her to smirk.

"Don't stray too far, Ms. Lounds. I might need your services In the future." It was signed Hannibal Lecter.

She smirked and folded the note back up. If he enjoyed her 'services' then she really wouldn't have a reason to stray.


End file.
